


How many days has it been

by weepingnaiad



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bonding ceremony as a backdrop, Getting Together, Legolas/Elrohir (implied) - Freeform, M/M, Meet the Family, Not Fitting In, Rare Pairings, after crossing, in the undying lands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22368823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: Thranduil crossed to the Undying Lands with the last of his people to leave Middle-earth, but he's never felt like he belonged in Tirion.  He roams far and wide exploring, his heart restless, until he meets a blond elf that feels a whole lot like home.  With Legolas' bonding day on the horizon he must leave.  Will his lover agree to go with him?  If he doesn't, can Thranduil walk away?
Relationships: Elrohir/Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduil/Celegorm | Tyelkormo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	How many days has it been

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaiden_S](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaiden_S/gifts).



> This is a gift. Thanks [Jaiden_S](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaiden_S/pseuds/Jaiden_S) for inspiring this!
> 
> Thanks so much to [Alexcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat) for the beta! I needed the comma wrangling!

"Sire?"

Thranduil shifted his pack and turned. "Galion, how many times must I tell you? I am no king here. This place already has far too many." He tried and failed at keeping the contempt out of his voice.

Galion made no reply, ignoring the barb just as he had every time since they first arrived on the shores of Valinor. "Are you leaving again?" he asked instead. "You have barely just returned."

There was little censure in Galion's tone, but Thranduil read past the civility and the deference to the heart of his intent: disappointment, regret, all underlain by an air of sadness. It was almost enough to make the king reconsider. He did miss Galion's dry wit and sarcastic commentary on the denizens of Aman and their squabbles. And he owed his advisor and oldest friend so _much_ \-- his life the least of them -- he surely owed him honesty? But Thranduil could not bear to speak of his lack; of the restlessness in his soul, of the way Aman was suffocating, repetitive, and dull. This land was not home; its forests and plains and mountains were less familiar than the plains of Rohan or the darkest, most foul corners of Mirkwood. Yet he longed for even the blackest of those paths and byways; his heart quailed from boredom. What kind of king missed _war_?

Instead of saying any of those thoughts aloud, he grasped Galion's arm and pulled him into a tight hug. "The land is wide. I have ventured no further than an elfling might, old friend. Have no worry for me and go. Be with your love and our family. They will all be the poorer for lack of you."

"Will they not also suffer for lack of you?" Galion grumbled as they parted.

Thranduil scoffed. "Hardly. I am poor company on the best of days. None need me there to make things awkward."

Frowning, Galion shook his head. "That is not the way of it," he began to argue. "But I will not chide you for allowing your son space to acquaint himself with his mother and your father."

"'twere better I not sully his impressions with my own."

Galion stepped close and clasped Thranduil's shoulder. "You have the right of it with Oropher, but I respect the intent," he said, words low. Stepping back he cocked his head in farewell. "I expect you to return in time for your son's bonding."

The subtle rebuke reminded Thranduil of his youth and he grinned at the feelings it engendered. Shouldering his pack more firmly, he nodded, offering a small dip of his head in deference to all that Galion had been, and still was, to him. "Do you imagine that even a Balrog could keep me from seeing Elrond give his son to _mine_ in marriage?" He chuckled. " _That_ I will not miss."

Galion shook his head, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth and his eyes sparkling, though his tone was as dry as Harad when he said, "Be gone then, 'ere you not find what you seek."

Heart warmed by Galion's support, Thranduil turned and walked away. The hole in his soul would not be filled by anything in this place, but riding far afield, away from the "civilized" areas near the coast kept him occupied at the very least. He was not fit company, but his horse was a faithful companion and did not balk at long days of riding, at salt and sweat stained skin as they stalked the beaches; nor did he mind the flies and midges on the plains, though he grumbled at being led through the forests.

Because his steed preferred the plains, they'd spent little time in the woods of Oromë, but that was the direction in which Thranduil tugged the reins.

~~*~~

His mount snorted with displeasure but did as bid and entered the great wood. As the path narrowed and the dappled sunlight dimmed from the dense canopy above them, his steps grew jerky and halting until Thranduil dismounted and led him through the trees. The surrounding forest teemed with life, the air redolent with leaf mould and animal musk. His shoulders eased and his lungs expanded, each step deeper into the wood settling something inside him.

Though he'd never been one to offer tribute to the Valar -- what use had they been to him in Middle-earth? -- Thranduil did recognize that he had been granted permission to walk these paths and hunt here. He could not miss the constant feeling of being watched, judged. So he unbent and offered thanks after each hunt. And the forest seemed to accept him as he continued on, his days spent idly wandering once the path had long diminished. He shared the nights with the inhabitants of the forest keeping him company. He roamed farther, no destination in mind, until he came upon a spring deep in the wood, the trees thin above the pool. The water flowed warm and clear, burbling softly; the invitation impossible to resist. That sensation of being watched had not fled, but no impediment to his way had arisen, so he stripped and dove in.

Surfacing, he scrubbed at his skin and hair, sighing with pleasure as the heated, mineral-laden water sluiced dirt and sweat off his skin. He slipped to the side and sprawled in a concave bowl smoothed by the water. Legs dangling, he half-floated, buoyed by the upwelling currents. With his eyes closed, he let himself doze, senses aware of the sleeping giant all around him, but unconcerned since he could feel no malice nor even awareness of _him._

For the first time since arriving in Aman, every last drop of tension fled from his muscles and he indulged in the sensation of freedom. At last.

Breathing even and slow, consciousness expanded beyond his little haven, he knew instantly when someone neared; the very air changed, thickening, almost with expectation. Forcing himself to remain still despite the instinct to confront, he feigned sleep. The person that had come upon him could not mean him harm, else the forest itself would have risen up and blocked their way. Surprised that the visitor made no further move to leave the shadows, Thranduil waited until his patience gave out.

Without opening his eyes, he allowed a smirk to curl his lips, his head slightly tilting in the direction the elf was. "Enjoying the view?" he asked, then stretched, just a bit, his bare limbs and torso in full view under the leafy shade.

When there was no answer, Thranduil snorted. "Shy? Or just a voyeur?" Waving idly, he shifted back, let himself float once again. "Whatever, 'tis rude to stare."

There was a slight crunch of leaves, barely heard, but only noted because the king's every sense was focused on that point. "'tis more rude to barge in uninvited," a voice spoke in roughened, course Sindarin. Either his 'guest' was not fluent in Thranduil's language or it had been a long time since he -- and it was definitely a male -- had spoken at all.

Intrigued and delightfully surprised at the tone, Thranduil turned on his side to see just who had been watching him.

"Oromë?" he challenged. "I expected you to be taller."

The elf spluttered in outrage and Thranduil merely chuckled. "Come or go, I care neither, but this is not your forest, Hunter," Thranduil sniped before turning his back to the other elf.

Thranduil ducked under the water, then surfaced to rest his arms on the sides of the pool. He had to see what his visitor would do next. And if he were honest, he wanted to more fully appreciate the handsome figure before him. He was an elf, of that the king was certain, but he had presence and a bearing that spoke of someone who was far more than a hunter. His clothes were all made of animal skins and he was well armed, longbow curled at his back, wicked looking sword sheathed at his side, along with a long knife strapped to his thigh. He was tall and vibrant, blue eyes nearly feral, though they widened as Thranduil slicked the water out of his eyes and squeezed more out of his hair, the ends of which floated around him.

"You--" the elf stuttered to a stop and shook his head, bewilderment crossing his features. Thranduil grinned. He did so love making an impression.

"I am Thranduil, formerly of Eryn Lasgalen. Newly resident in Tirion." He hoped he sounded properly pleased with that state of affairs.

When the other elf remained quiet, Thranduil huffed out a breath. "You have the manners of a warg. If you plan to just stare at me, then why do you not just leave?"

"I--" the stranger began, then he cursed under his breath. In Quenya. Thranduil sighed. He was going to be forced to master that blasted language.

"I am... Ty. I--" he introduced himself and Thranduil knew him then, an elf from legend, but stayed silent. "I come here often," Ty said, more quickly; his pronunciation improving with each word spoken. "How did you find this place?"

"I have been wandering the paths of this wood for a full cycle of Ithil. I think the Lord hereabouts had grown tired of my smell," Thranduil answered, lips curling up. "Is that why you came? To clean the stench off?"

"Uh…"

Thranduil beckoned with one finger. "Then come. I will not stop you."

"Do you know who I am?"

"An elf that needs a bath?"

"Are you mad?" Ty asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

"Nay. Should I be?"

Ty shook his head and began muttering to himself, but he stepped fully into the light giving Thranduil the opportunity to study him. And he gladly used the chance to the fullest.

"Must you stare?" Ty asked as he began to undress.

"Indeed I must. Turnabout is fair play and you are fair to look upon. I like what I see, " he leered.

"Are you always so forward?" Ty continued to disrobe until he was standing, naked, at the edge of the pool giving Thranduil a glorious view up long, lean legs. Ty was chiseled perfection, all golden skin and hard muscle with a filling cock and an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Nay. I am usually much worse. Do come in. You are sure to grow cold standing out there like that."

Thranduil flipped over and dove down before he surfaced on the opposite side of the spring. "There. I have moved away. Your virtue will remain intact."

That made Ty bark out a laugh before he dove into the pool with hardly a ripple. Thranduil held his breath and waited, curious. When Ty surfaced he was beside the king, making Thranduil blink with surprise.

"I have not been virtuous since long before I first left this land. Why ever do you think I'd wish to salvage that which I likely never had?"

His breath was warm and the wary smile that he gave Thranduil made the king's heart race. Taking a chance he wrapped his arms about Ty's shoulders and pulled him close. "Mayhap we should see just how non-virtuous we both can be, eh?"

Needing no further words, they came together many times as the day lengthened and drew to a close. Thranduil was surprised when their heated, hungry touches gentled, turning careful, almost tender. He wasn't sure what to make of the change, but he responded in kind, his reverence for Ty unfeigned.

Their bodies satiated, they sprawled on a makeshift bed from the king's cloak over leaves and needles. For all the primitive and feral nature of their couplings and the lack of words, Thranduil sensed Ty's thoughts as he sprawled over his newfound lover.

"What troubles you?" he asked, hand stroking idly along Ty's flank. When he received no answer he looked up to meet Ty's hooded gaze.

"I make no claims on your person," Thranduil began, eyes going sly as he continued, "I am just the slight bit insulted that you frown after such a long, glorious day of getting to know each other so thoroughly."

Nipping casually at the spot where Ty's chin met his ear and getting a quiet moan made him smile. "Keep your counsel then, lover, but I am taking another dip. I have grown sticky… and hungry."

As the king made to rise, Ty's arm tightened around him, keeping him in place. "Stay. A bit longer. Please?"

His voice was quiet, unsure, and Thranduil couldn't help but respond to the request. They did not know one another, not more than carnally, and Thranduil discounted legend being the skeptic that he was, but he found that he wanted to know this complicated elf beneath him. He already craved the way his eyes lit when he smiled. And those eyes, their intense gaze inspired more than mere physical reactions.

Settling back down, head resting over Ty's heart, Thranduil heard the pace of it, the way it thundered like a frightened steed. He dropped a kiss to golden skin, then breathed out a contented sigh. "I will gladly stay as long as you want, but I will need further sustenance at some point."

"I will not allow you to starve, aranya," Ty said, voice uncharacteristically shy, though the phrase made Thranduil's eyes dart up and he caught the slight smirk on Ty's lips.

"You _are_ an ass," he retorted, then soothed his words with a kiss. It was meant to be short and sweet, but grew heated and deep, leaving him breathless when he pulled back. He'd never been kissed quite the way that Ty did; possessive and sure, with a hint of uncertainty and care that made Thranduil's heart flip in his chest. He did not know what to make of it, but he thought he could grow accustomed to such kisses.

"I am far worse than that," Ty replied, but he seemed to relax when Thranduil snorted, though his arms tightened around the king once again.

The rest of the evening passed in comfortable silence as they swam and prepared and ate the hares that Ty had snared earlier. It was one of the most pleasant evenings Thranduil had spent in an Age so it was as easy as breathing to return to their makeshift bed beside the embers of their dying fire where they did nothing but sleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

~~*~~

Thranduil woke alone and frowned at the way his chest twisted with disappointment. Still, he could not honestly have expected Tyelkormo Feanorion to stay. As far as Thranduil had heard, no one was aware that Ty had been released from the Halls, or if they were, the news had been kept quiet. Sitting up, he sighed, then gave a long, slow stretch, relishing the pleasant aches and pains he bore in all the right places.

Ty strode into the clearing like he owned the world, clad only in tight breeches; the sight of him making Thranduil's mouth water and a bright smile light his face. Ty dropped down beside him and pressed a brief kiss to the king's upturned lips. "I thought you needed your sleep," he murmured.

"I needed you more," Thranduil protested, deepening the kiss. "You should have woken me."

Ty blinked, eyes vulnerable before he grinned. "I hoped to wake you with food and… more," he teased.

Thranduil's reply was to tug Ty down onto him as he sprawled back on their bed.

~~*~~

Though they talked little at first, they found much in common and spent their days hunting and challenging each other to mock contests of skill and cunning. Thranduil had never met an elf who could sneak up on him in a forest, but Tyelkormo could; and used the skill to great effect especially when he wanted to tackle the king to the ground. More often than not, they ended up in a sweating, panting heap, bare limbs entwined, matching grins sated and sly.

Ty even proved his prowess as a teacher, surprising Thranduil with his in depth knowledge of the entirety of the flora and fauna in the woods. And the king surprised himself with how eager he was to learn, though Ty's 'incentives' might have made him even more keen than he would have been. But who could say no to those lips?

Thus the days passed until Thranduil's time grew short. He would have to leave soon if he was to arrive in time for all of the festivities. And no matter how much he enjoyed causing a stir, especially if he had the chance to make Elrond's left eyebrow twitch, he would not do that to Legolas.

A deep melancholy began to settle itself in Thranduil's chest. His son was to be wed, but he desired nothing more than to stay here, away from the intrigue and false niceties of Tirion. And once he glanced up at Ty, sitting propped against a tree, one leg bent and the other stretched out, hands weaving a snare that he knew: he'd found the long missing piece of his soul. But just as he'd always suspected, he'd never get to keep this.

He sighed aloud, completely unintentional and far too obvious, eyes closing when Ty spoke.

"You are quiet tonight, not at all yourself," Ty observed, mild curiosity in his tone. "What troubles you?"

Thranduil sagged, but, resigned, he squared his shoulders and moved to his lover's side, pressing their legs together for the warmth of Ty's presence. "I have something to ask you."

"So out with it," Ty ordered. "'tis not like you to hold your tongue," he added, a smirk on his face. "And since that very tongue knows me intimately, I doubt there is anything you could ask that would trouble me." 

His smile grew wide and Thranduil needed to kiss him like he needed to breathe. Instead of giving in, Thranduil ducked his head and gave Ty a bemused grin. "I am not good with words."

Ty snorted. "I do not believe you." Shaking his head, he gazed at Thranduil, blue eyes intent, but clear and holding so much respect and fondness that it made the king's chest ache. "You are as shrewd and skilled a negotiator as any I have known."

Thranduil shook his head. He knew better, well knew the words for his own failings: calculating, melancholy, obstinate, and hubris. "Ah, yes. My skills at negotiating with the denizens of the forest translate perfectly."

Ty turned, straddled Thranduil, his eyes a wild blue, the king losing himself in them for a time before he beamed up at the other elf. "Out with it, aranya."

And there it was. Thranduil had been the king of many, had led many, but he'd never truly been the king of another's heart, not the way Ty seemed to mean it. "Come with me?" he blurted out, too distracted to coax the words to being.

Ty sat back on his heels and cocked his head. "To where?"

"To Tirion, for my son's bonding ceremony." Thranduil swallowed, but pushed on. "I want to introduce you to… my family."

Ty frowned. "As what? A Kinslayer? An elf out of legend you snared?"

"Nay! As my lover. As someone that I have grown to care for very deeply," Thranduil protested, heart stuttering. "As someone I would like to share more than my bed with."

Ty stood and paced, the line of his spine straight and stiff. He shook his head. "I am not welcome--"

"You will be welcome in my home, with my family. You have paid your price." Thranduil was adamant about that. No one would _dare_ gainsay him. He would not allow it. "Else Námo would not have released you."

Ty stepped further away. He was going to bolt. Thranduil stood, reached out to stop him. "Please? You do not have to stay. Just… come for the ceremony."

Ty turned and his eyes were sad, but his jaw was set, his lips pressed tightly together as he shook his head. Thranduil swallowed; licked his lips. He forced the tension from his shoulders, cocked his head and drew a smile from somewhere. "Of course," he said. "I understand. 'twas merely an idyll," he lied, but kept a placid face even as his heart shattered. "I should go…"

Ty nodded, then withdrew, his sharp whistle calling Thranduil's horse.

Thranduil dressed in silence, gathered his few belongings, hand lingering over his cloak. Pulling away, he left it. When he straightened, pack on his shoulder, it was to the view of Ty whispering in his horse's ear. He wanted to ask what Ty was saying, but the tension in the clearing was too thick, the quiet had turned suffocating and made him hold his tongue. 

The reins were warm when Thranduil took them. "It was fun, lover." His voice almost hit that cocksure humor he often had after a tryst. "My home is always open to you." Those words bled too much, showed his hand, but they were out now and there was little he could do to alter the outcome of any of this. He ducked his head in a short bow and moved to lead the stallion the way he'd come, but his mount resisted.

"There is a short cut," Ty spoke up, voice rusty. "To the plains," he explained. "'twill speed your journey. Fioroimo knows the way."

"Thank you," Thranduil said and found that he meant it. He only glanced back once, managed to keep the smile on his face despite the pain and longing in his heart.

With a clear destination in mind and the need to move, they made good time to the plains. Once the forest path had widened and the foliage was less dense, Thranduil mounted and gave Fior his head. They raced as though wargs were nipping at their heels, Tirion coming into sight far sooner than Thranduil was prepared for. He shook off his melancholy mood. There was no place for that now. His son was to be married!

~~*~~

When Thranduil learned the extent of the wedding festivities, he was thankful he'd not been present for the planning. He had no idea there needed to be so many parties _before_ the ceremony, which was, apparently, _the_ event of the season. The clamor for an invitation and the expanding guest list confirmed his private thoughts about life in Aman. Boring.

Galion snickered when the king was manhandled into fittings for two new sets of robes, one that made him cringe and think of the drapes in his counsel halls back in Eryn Lasgalen. But he successfully held his tongue and did not argue with anything, except the paltry selection of wines. He opened his private stash for the grooms to Elrond's irritation. It was only when the Peredhel had snapped at him three times in a row that Thranduil finally figured out that Elrond was unnerved by the whole affair.

And then Thranduil felt like an insensitive heel. Elrond had given Arwen in marriage despite the knowledge that he would lose her because of it. In that moment, Thranduil decided that he could be the bigger elf and bury the hatchet -- and not in Elrond's back! -- so he dragged Elrond to his suite and plied him with wine and brandy until they were both drunk and actually laughing together. The hangover was little price to pay for forgiveness and new understanding. Legolas's happy grin was icing on the cake.

If Thranduil was more somber, quietly introspective, and prone to disappearing for hours at a time, none tied his behavior to his latest trip. Most assumed he was back to his old ways; trying out new bedmates. Even he grew weary of the pining and used the many parties as a chance to dispel his solemn mood, but not even watching Legolas and Elrohir drag nearly every elf in Aman into a dance line could fill the hole in Thranduil's gut.

"Why the long face, old friend?" Celeborn nudged Thranduil, who rolled his eyes at his friend, but still took the overly full goblet on offer. It was his best wine, after all. He could not let it go to waste.

"My face is what it is," Thranduil replied. "But why are you not out there," he waved toward the dance floor from his position overlooking the festivities, "making a fool of yourself?" Thranduil pointed his chin toward the younger set, a multitude of blond heads surrounding Elrond's twins. "If I am not mistaken, your lovers would appreciate your presence."

Celeborn snorted. "I have no need to prove my prowess at dancing or any of those drunken games they seem to be making up on the fly." He took a sip and leaned his elbows on the railing next to Thranduil. "I thought I should check on you. It is a rare party that finds you not in the very midst of it."

"This is for Lassé, not for I," Thranduil answered. "His mother deserves the chance to spend time with her son without me underfoot."

"Underfoot? You?" Celeborn shook his head. "You are avoiding us all and I would know why." He turned his back to the dancers and met Thranduil's eyes, pinning them firmly.

"Fine. Have it your way. While I am happy for my son and have even made amends with Elrond--"

"I heard tell of that. Very big of you," Celeborn interrupted, grinning. "'Twas quite the news around these parts."

Thranduil glared. "I do not have to speak of this, you know."

Celeborn waved him on. "Please, do continue."

"Aman does not suit me. I do not fit in," Thranduil said, brutally honest. "I long for my home and cannot bear to stay amongst the gossiping and idling crowds." He sighed, weighed how honest he could be with his friend. Celeborn had reason to hold a grudge against the Feanorians. "I found a kindred spirit on my explorations and I find that I wish to go back to the forest rather than be here."

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and glanced back down at the revelers. "I would not miss Legolas' binding day for anything, but I find that Aman has grown worse than stifling. It itches along my spine, makes me cranky." He turned to meet Celeborn's gaze. "How do you manage it? You were as home as I in the woods. How do you bear the petty grievances and a life of inanity?"

Celeborn was silent for a long time, his gaze lingering on the king's face. "I keep myself busy with those I care for. And I leave the bickering and ruling to everyone else. I am no longer Lord here and I prefer it that way." He glanced down, his smile growing. "I have lovers who keep me challenged. Why would I not stay here with my family? I am happy here."

He put a hand on Thranduil's forearm. "But there is no crime in not fitting in." He squeezed Thranduil's arm before continuing. "But I think it is less that Aman does not suit you." His smile turned into a small smirk.

"What?" Thranduil asked. "What do you mean?"

"Have you found someone to share more than a bed with at last? Is that what troubles you?"

"I--" he began, but stopped. "How?"

"Galion and I have been talking. You returned after this last adventure a changed elf."

Thranduil frowned. "I am still me. What nonsense!"

Celeborn raised an eyebrow at Thranduil. "Truly? Before you were restless. An elf of action unsure what to do with himself. Now? Now you sit staring off into the distance. You are _brooding_ upon something. Before you had to be sparring, had to have your nose in everything and that created conflicts with your father and Legolas' mother, but now? Now you are content to let them do what they will," Celeborn explained. "For Eru's sake! You allowed them to dress you in _curtains_!"

Thranduil swallowed, was working on a retort when there was a stir growing down below. Both elves glanced over the railing as the whispers grew into murmurs then finally grew louder, voices raised into protests and argument.

Celeborn gave Thranduil a knowing smirk. "Why do I suspect that this is because of you?"

"Me? I am up here with you," Thranduil growled. "Do not accuse me of mischief!"

Celeborn ignored Thranduil's protestations and linked their arms together. "Fine, old friend. Let us go investigate what is transpiring down below then, shall we?" He was implacable when he wanted to be and Thranduil's curiosity had been piqued so he acquiesced.

"Very well, but if it proves not to be my doing, you owe me a barrel of wine."

Of course when they made it downstairs and over to the cluster of elves, Thranduil immediately recognized the elf at the center of it all: _Tyelkormo._

He stopped, gaped at his erstwhile lover, completely unable to form words. Celeborn had no such compunction. "You?!"

Elrond stepped between them, moving to the middle of the circle where tempers threatened to flare and ignite into an inferno. He held out his arms keeping Celeborn from Ty while Thranduil could only stare.

Finally, Elrond rolled his eyes and snapped at Thranduil. "Do something! For I know you invited this one."

"This one?" Ty said, voice dry and amused. "Can you not even say my name, nephew?"

"I am no more your nephew than I am his lover!" Elrond spat, eyes glaring at Thranduil.

"I should gut you where you stand," Celeborn threatened.

"You could try." Few elves could stare down two such powerful elves, but Ty seemed unmoved, his words almost wry, eyes focused on Thranduil.

Celeborn's threat broke the spell and Thranduil strode into the middle of the standoff. "Aye, I invited my lover to attend my son's wedding and I'll not apologize for it," he told Elrond, giving the other elf no quarter. "And you," he rounded on Celeborn. "You will be civil or I will throw you out."

"What?!?!" Celeborn exploded in anger. "You would choose this-- this-- _thing_ over--"

"Have a care," Thranduil said, voice gone low and cold, all good humor burned away. "He was released from the halls. He has done his penance." He stepped close to Celeborn, met him toe to toe. "I know you well, old friend, do not dare think yourself above him," he cautioned, but his voice was no less hard.

"Not a one of you here is perfect," Thranduil's voice rang out to the assembled elves. "And few have not made grievous mistakes. I'll not have ancient history infect this most happy of days." He glared at Celeborn who snorted, but backed off.

Legolas, with Elrohir by his side, nodded his approval. "I am happy for you, Adar." He turned his attention to Ty. "And you are most welcome here."

"Aye," Elrohir agreed. "We are glad to have you." He motioned to the side tables. "You must be parched," he said. "Do have some wine. It is some of the finest in the land."

"And that is my cue for more dancing," Legolas chuckled, smile bright and undeterred. Thranduil was never so proud of his son in his life.

As soon as the two grooms left the circle most of the other revelers departed as well.

That left Thranduil caught between his lover and one of his oldest friends and his son's father-by-marriage. To make matters more tense, Oropher chose that exact moment to notice the standoff and come to comment on it.

"Of course you would consort with one of the most reviled elves in all of Aman," Oropher sneered.

Thranduil gritted his jaw and took a slow, steadying breath before he deemed it safe to reply. "I care not what you or anyone else thinks."

"I am aware. That was always one of your biggest flaws." Oropher sneered and his words should gut Thranduil as they once did. But the king realized with relief that his father’s judgement mattered not to him. It carried less weight than the wind on the king’s face.

"You are wrong, Adar. I have greater flaws than that, but none of them are your concern." Thranduil finally turned to fully meet his father's gaze. "My failings have not been yours to worry about for more years than they were. I suggest you take yourself out of this as it is none of your business."

Oropher spluttered. "This is my grandson's bonding day!"

"So go. Spend time with your grandson," Thranduil said. "I have held my tongue but do not push me. I would be glad of the chance to toss you out on your ear." He added, tone spiked with a hint of gleeful malice, "Especially in front of so many that you fawn over."

Galion appeared out of the shadows and tugged Oropher away, taking Thranduil's ire with him. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the others. "Have I made myself clear?" he asked both Elrond and Celeborn, but the question was mostly intended for his friend.

Celeborn ducked his head before he glared at Ty. "You have been granted something rare and precious. See that you treat him as the treasure he is or my blade will not hesitate to take your head." He dropped the ultimatum and then took his leave with barely a glance in Thranduil's direction.

Thranduil wanted to argue with Celeborn, to chide him for thinking that Thranduil needed anyone's protection, let alone from Ty.

"Thank you for coming." He stepped close, then offered Ty a sheepish smile. "Forgive them."

Ty's eyes lit up, his lips settling into a wicked smirk; the one that made Thranduil's heart race. "It would have been good to have fair warning of just who comprised your 'family'," he admitted, making the king wince.

Placing a palm on Thranduil's face, his eyes filled with affection. "'Tis no hardship, aranya." His countenance growing serious, he continued, "I am glad that you are so loved, though that should be no surprise."

"I should have said something."

"Nay, for that would have just provided me an excuse to stay away." He glanced up, eyes taking in the festivities, cataloguing the faces, many of them far too familiar by the slight tightening of the skin around his eyes. "I am grateful that you forced me to come."

"I would never--"

Ty pressed a finger to Thranduil's lips, silencing him. "You left," he said and the king's eyes widened. "I was content, in a way, with my lot, knew that the isolation was all I deserved, but then there was you."

"Me?" Thranduil inhaled sharply, heart thudding hard against his ribs.

"Aye," Ty breathed out.

Thranduil moved closer, inhaled Ty's scent before wrapping his arms around his lover.

"When you left, I felt my solitude as a weight, an undesired burden that grew more cumbersome the longer the days stretched. I was utterly alone. I had allowed the forest to become my prison until you." Ty leaned in, pressed their foreheads together. "I was _alive_ once again because of you and then you were gone, taking the light and my heart with you."

Uncaring of their possible audience, Thranduil could no longer resist and closed the space between them to kiss Ty. He tried to keep it chaste, but his blood was singing from Ty's confession and there was no stopping the conflagration that blazed into life between them. Thranduil was shoved against the wall and he wrapped a leg around Ty's calf, their lips never parting as they moved. He tangled one hand in Ty's hair to hold him, his other wrapping around his lover's trim waist to scrabble at his clothes in a quest to get to bare skin.

"Sire!" Galion hissed from behind them. "Please restrain yourselves!"

Ty retreated and Thranduil bemoaned the loss. He did not release his lover and glared at his Seneschal over Ty's shoulder. "We are away from the rest of the guests."

"Aye, but have you not already caused enough of a stir?" Galion asked, voice dry, one eyebrow raised. "Do you truly wish to overshadow your son's bonding day?"

Ty pulled back even further, the only point of contact the tips of their fingers. He smiled at Thranduil, never even glanced over his shoulder at Galion. "Mayhap we should delay?" His grin turned wicked, eyes sparkling. "I can wait in your rooms. For propriety's sake."

Thranduil's blood sang and he suddenly found it quite hard to breathe. "Propriety be damned," he swore, making Ty laugh.

"Do not be a child, Sire. Your reunion can wait a little longer." Galion glared at Thranduil and tapped his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your attendance is required for one last ritual," Galion continued. "And I suggest that you allow your lover to retreat to your rooms while he waits."

"I'll not be spoken to as if I were a misbehaving toddler."

"Then do not behave as one," Galion said, temper flaring.

"Thranduil?" Servain called as she joined Galion, making Thranduil swear under his breath. "Shall I ask your father to stand in for you?"

Her question only made it harder for Thranduil to withhold the curses he was thinking.

Ty glanced up, quickly assessed the situation and shook his head, tugging Thranduil close enough for his breath to brush against the king's ear. "Go, aranya. Do your duty. Be there for your son. I am not going anywhere." He pressed his lips to the tip of the king's ear and _that_ further stole Thranduil's breath and sent a shudder down his spine and fire licking his groin. "In fact, I will be in your bed, awaiting the celebration of our reunion."

"Bastard," he swore but leaned in to kiss the grin off Ty's face. "You are in for it."

Pivoting, he moved gracefully around Ty and faced his son's mother. Taking a deep breath, he offered her his arm. "You always did know how to motivate me, but I much prefer enticements to threats." The king then met Galion's gaze. "And you can show my guest to my quarters. Make sure he wants for nothing."

Galion frowned, wanted to argue. Because he wanted to be at the ceremony as well, but Thranduil would be damned if there wasn't a price to pay for interrupting him.

Servain chuckled. "You still have not changed, meldir."

Thranduil cocked his head at her as they walked. "I would like to think I have changed a great deal since we lived together."

"Because you have finally allowed your heart to be snared?"

Thranduil patted her hand as they stepped into the great hall. "Nay, because I am a big enough elf to allow my son to marry one of Elrond's."

She laughed again. "That is just getting your revenge."

"Maybe so, meldis. Maybe so," he agreed, stepping to the dais as the ceremony started.

~~*~~

Surprisingly, Thranduil lingered after the ceremony. His son, his only child, was now bonded, married into a family of legend. Though he contended that his son's actions alone were quite legendary enough. Still, for all that he had half of his attention on the golden elf waiting for him upstairs, he stayed and actually _socialized,_ making polite conversation with elves he used to sneer at for their obsessions with rings and stones and swords.

"You are smiling," Galion commented dryly as he joined Thranduil. "You should stop 'ere someone thinks you are enjoying yourself."

Thranduil snorted and, ignoring the barb, took a sip of his wine. "I would rather be in a flet in the woods than standing here and watching these elves fawn over each other." His grin was almost malicious. "But I am strangely content to watch from the sidelines and allow all of you to wade through the petty bickering and false posturing."

"Well no one ever claimed you were a diplomat, Sire."

"Of course not. I was a warrior first, a king second. Who needs diplomacy against the minions of darkness?" He shrugged, then took another drink, noticing his glass was nearly empty. "It is as it always was."

Galion grinned, "May I remind you, there are no wars here to fight."

"And the only darkness is on Noldorin heads," Thranduil shot back. "You are not funny, old friend."

Before Galion could come back with some smart retort, a cry went up from the center of the room.

Thranduil straightened. "And here it is. They are leaving." His heart twisted, but only slightly. He was indeed grateful that Legolas was at long last wedded to the love of his life. Elrohir might be Elrond's son, but he was the more level-headed of the twins and he clearly loved Legolas as much as he was loved.

"Shall I provide you a handkerchief, Sire," Galion teased.

Thranduil elbowed him hard. "Nay, but another glass of wine would not go amiss."

Galion rolled his eyes, but moved away with a smile. "Make it an entire bottle!" Thranduil called out to his retreating back.

Sighing, he straightened his shoulders and strode forward, moving people aside if they did not give way, until he was standing before his son. _Sons._ That would take some getting used to.

"Father!" Legolas greeted. He was suffused with joy, face flushed from wine and more, his hand still tied to Elrohir's as he reached out to embrace Thranduil.

Thranduil smiled indulgently, wrapping one arm around his son before tugging Elrohir into the hug. He squeezed them tightly, then dropped an affectionate kiss to Legolas's forehead. "Be well, Lassé. I am so happy for you."

Turning to Elrohir, he pretended to frown, brows drawn as though to chide before he could no longer keep up the ruse, saying, "Welcome to the family, my son." He dropped a kiss to Elrohir's forehead, mimicking the earlier action before he added, "Take care of each other and do not allow yourselves to be swayed into returning before you are both thoroughly sated and debauched."

"Thranduil!" Servain shouted at the same time as Elrond crossed his arms over his chest and glared with all his might.

"Adar!" Legolas cried over Thranduil's laughter.

"Good advice," Elrohir chuckled before dragging Legolas away. 

Servain punched Thranduil on the bicep, but she was smiling.

"What did you expect from me?"

"Nothing more than what you did, meldir." She shrugged. "You pride yourself on being incorrigible. Untamed, was it?" Her eyes bored through, her regard stretching out enough to make Thranduil squirm like an elfling. "'Tis so good to see you happy, to see you more like yourself than you have been since you arrived."

Caught off guard by her compassion, he swallowed while searching for something to say.

Galion arrived and saved him from having to speak. "Here, Sire," he said, handing Thranduil two fresh glasses and a bottle of their finest red. "M'lady, mayhap you can teach me this dance?"

Thranduil sagged in relief. Once again Galion had rescued him from facing who he had become. "Thank you, old friend," he murmured, then took Servain's hand and bowed over it before he brushed a kiss to the back. Straightening he gazed into the face of one of his best friends from their former lives. "I am more grateful that you have found your heart's desire here, meldis. There is none that deserve it more."

Chuckling, she shook her head and entwined her arm with Galion's. "And you still wield a golden tongue when you choose." Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she winked. "Now maybe go put it to better use, hmmmm?"

Thranduil was left gaping after her before he realized he was finally free to see if Ty meant what he said.

~~*~~

He raced up the stairs two at a time, only slowing once he neared his door at the end of the hallway. He was as eager as an elf at his majority rites, but that would be ridiculous. Swallowing, he stopped to catch his breath and corral his thoughts and stampeding heart.

He caught himself before he knocked on his _own_ door, but was intentionally loud as he entered.

Thranduil wasn't sure how he expected or hoped Ty would greet him, but his erstwhile lover was standing on the balcony in bare feet, a loose shirt, and leggings, the French doors thrown wide with a sumptuous table set out for them.

He blinked as Ty turned. "There you are!"

With a few long strides, Ty was there, pushing into Thranduil's space, smile small but genuine and eyes lit with joy.

"I brought wine?" Thranduil offered, both pleasantly surprised and completely off balance.

But then Ty cocked his head and gifted the king with a wicked smirk, one that made Thranduil inhale sharply. In the woods, he would have ended up flat on his back in moments after that grin. "Mayhap you set those down lest they break when I greet you as I had planned."

"Aye, I'll not waste such wine on the floor," Thranduil agreed, setting them on a side table before he was engulfed and overwhelmed, lips seized as he was wrapped in an all-encompassing embrace.

Thranduil had been called many things throughout his life, most quite unflattering, but he had been known for the steel in his spine, the strength of his determination, and the fact that he had never been cowed by the forces of darkness, not even when they had taken everything from him. But all of his strength, all of that stubborn will burnt away in Ty's arms where he clung and held tight, desperate and yearning for the mate to his soul, the one that completed him. After all these years, after all the heartbreak and triumph, he could at last set down his burdens and allow himself to be cherished. For that was what Ty was doing, with each caress, each kiss, each endearment, he was stripping away all of the walls and armament that Thranduil had built up over the years, stripping him bare down to his very essence.

It was terrifying and glorious and Thranduil dove in head first, only surfacing once he'd been stripped and laid out, bare and debauched in his own bed.

Lips bruised and claiming marks darkening all down his torso, Thranduil chuckled as he glanced at his still fully clad lover. "Eager, are we?"

"We seem to be," Ty replied with a wry grin before nipping at the tender skin over Thranduil’s hip bone. "Should I stop?" he asked. "Mayhap you wish to discuss the weather or the latest fashion?" His eyes darted to where Thranduil's clothes were strewn about the room, smirk fully in place.

"Get up here, lover," Thranduil ordered, tugging Ty up.

Tyelkormo went easily, allowed himself to be pulled up until he hovered on all fours, no part of him touching Thranduil. "Is this what you desired?"

"Ass, you know 'tis not," Thranduil replied. "You are wearing far too many clothes!"

"And the lovely repast I ordered for us is getting cold."

Thranduil chuckled. "Fine," he said, and pushed Ty off of him, making to stand. "I shall dress then, shall I?"

Ty wrapped an arm around his waist and did not let go. "Nay, I missed you," he said, voice greatly muffled by the king's back.

Twisting so he could see him, Thranduil asked, "What was that? Did I hear you right?"

"You heard me," Ty said words gruff and low as he met Thranduil's gaze.

"I thought we were but a light idyll, a brief tryst to while away the time?" He was teasing, but only slightly. He still bore the hurt of being sent away, of returning home alone, forced to leave the one who held his heart.

"Fine," Ty conceded, twisting to drop to the floor on his knees, face level with Thranduil's groin, but his eyes were dark pools, his countenance serious, nearly grim. "I missed you, with all of my being. You reminded me what _living_ was. You gave me a taste of the sweetest delicacy and now I crave it with all my heart."

"Delicacy?"

"The taste of you," Ty answered his tone matter of fact as though he were making small talk. "I am addicted and your departure left my world empty, grayer than the halls." Ducking his head, he swallowed, but then squared his shoulders and returned his gaze to meet Thranduil's. "In truth, I raged at the fickleness of the Valar, at setting you in my path and then taking you away. I was furious."

He continued with a soft huff, "I was so angry because I hurt, worse than anything I have ever known."

"Over me?" Thranduil was sure he was imagining this, couldn't believe that he was hearing these words.

"Of course over you. I wouldst spend the rest of my days showing you how deeply I love you, how much I need you."

"I _am_ good in bed," Thranduil nodded.

"Do not be an ass," Ty chided, but he was grinning, his face light. "You _are_ good in bed, but I crave our talks, the way you challenge me at every opportunity."

"I do not--"

Ty reached up and silenced the king with a finger to his lips. "You are as stubborn as I, as willful, and I adore that about you."

Thranduil's eyes widened, but he did not retreat or try to argue.

"I expect that our arguments will be as heated as our lovemaking because of it, and I want that. All of it."

Thranduil swallowed, nodded, then sucked Ty's finger into his mouth, making his lover draw in a swift breath. He nipped at the finger and Ty swore, withdrawing hastily. "So show me, prove that you will stay." Thranduil continued, challenge in his voice, "Take me here, in my bed, where I have had many, but none who hold my heart in their hands."

"By Eru, you are a maddening elf!" Ty swore, but he was already undressing before he stood.

Seeing how affected Ty was, Thranduil grinned and leaned back, sprawled out on his bed, one hand stroking down his torso while the other curled behind his head. Before he could continue to taunt Ty, his lover clambered over him, pressed him down into the mattress and captured his lips in a searing kiss, once again stealing his breath and making his world spin.

Their cocks slid against each other and Thranduil moaned aloud. "I need--"

Already breathless and panting, Ty, gentled the kiss, eased back. "What do you need, aranya? I would give it to you."

With a great shuddering breath, Thranduil took a moment to tangle one hand in Ty's hair, the other resting on his lower back before he tugged him closer to breathe against his mouth, "You, meleth. Only you, 'tis all I will need for the rest of my days."

Ty swallowed and sagged, ducking his head against Thranduil's neck. "You say such things," he muttered. "How am I supposed to seduce you when your very words send me to my knees?"

Grinning up at the ceiling, his heart soaring, Thranduil tangled their legs together and wrapped his arms about Ty as he flipped them. His smile was wide and mischievous as he met his lover's astonished gaze. "I am yours, you have no need to seduce me," he said, then reached into the bedside table to retrieve the oil. "But I think for this day, I shall command you."

Ty spluttered in outrage, making Thranduil chuckle. "Just lie back, beloved, and let me show you," he said, before pressing two slick fingers into himself.

That movement, the swiftness of the intrusion and the way Ty's eyes darkened sent Thranduil's blood racing. He was already panting and they'd barely begun. Gasping, he palmed more oil and used the excess to coat his lover's cock which was pulsing and hot between them. And that was almost too much. Ty groaned and gripped Thranduil by the neck. "Slow down, 'ere this is over before we start."

He licked his lips and shifted, pushing Thranduil up on his knees. Panting, Ty took a long indrawn breath, before he spoke. "Do you truly expect me to lie here while you look like that? While you are doing that?" He huffed out a breath. "I am only an elf, 'tis not possible for me to keep such control."

Eyes dancing, Thranduil smirked down at his flustered lover, thrilled that he had the power to turn a son of Feanor into a quivering, wanting, panting mess of need and desire. In answer, he lifted his arms wide, "What would you have of me instead? I want you." He cocked his head, then shook it. "Nay, that is not the way of it. I _need_ you as I have never needed in my life. And I am ready for you." He pouted, just a bit. "Would you deny me?"

Ty sagged back into the bed with a heartfelt groan. "You will be the death of me!" he swore, but gripped the base of his cock and lifted it straight up. "But I would never, _could_ never deny you, so here I am, waiting for you." He swallowed and cleared his throat, emotion thick in his eyes.

Thranduil could only respond by sinking down. He was too fast, it was all too fast, but he had no restraint where Ty was concerned. Luckily, Ty seemed to fare no better and they were soon wrapped up tightly in each other, Ty thrusting up and Thranduil sank down, their cries and moans crescendoing with their bodies until Ty stiffened and cried out; his whole body going taut before he grabbed Thranduil's buttocks with both hands and pulled him firmly against his stomach, hips stuttering in sharp staccato until Thranduil gasped his own wordless cry and came.

"Fuck!" Thranduil swore into Ty's chest as awareness returned.

They were a sticky, sweaty mess and Thranduil's limbs felt like limp noodles, but his blood was singing and he couldn't hold back a happy grin.

"We need to do that again," he murmured, lips dragging up to the hollow in Ty's throat.

His lover chuckled, arms tightening around Thranduil, "Aye, but first I need sustenance, else I will never be able to keep up with you."

Thranduil lifted to his elbows so he could look Ty in the eyes. "Will you?"

"Keep up with you? Aye, I can do that." Ty grinned and cupped Thranduil's face.

"That is not what I meant."

"No?"

"Will you stay?"

Ty's smile softened, his caress gentled until he was barely cradling Thranduil's face. "For you, I will." He shrugged. "I might not be welcome for long, but I swear to stay as long as you want me."

"Always. I will want you always."

"If you will it, then it will be, aranya," Ty vowed. "Always."

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Trope Bingo Fill: _meet the family/parents_ but this bingo card was from 2014! So, yeah. Luckily this round (Round 14) is an amnesty round so here it is!
> 
> The title is from Leon Russell's song _Stranger in a Strange Land_ which was the working title for this fic. But it only fit half the story so I went with a different lyric.


End file.
